Breaking Barriers
by The True North
Summary: When Harry Potter learns that the sides of the war are not written in stone he comes across a dilemma. Who are his real friends, and who are the real enemies? This is an exploration of a more complicated HP Universe. Multiple Pairings, coming later.
1. Quickened Pace

_**Hello Everyone, I would like to start by saying thank you for reading. I have no written fanfiction for a long time and had this idea that simply itched my psyche tremendously. My hopes for this fanfiction is that it opens up the universe we have grown to hold dear by expanding upon it in ways that feel natural. The people will be less archetypal, they will be more human, and the world will be less black and white. **_

_**While people would love to know pairings, I feel that as much as anything should happen by chance within the organic growth of the characters without being forced. However it will not be slash as I simply do not have enough experience with that perspective to adequately write about it.**_

_**The Warnings include mild violence, mild language, and stressful situations. It will be grittier without hitting you in the face with it. **_

_**I do not own the Harry Potter Universe and claim no ownership of any of these concepts or ideas as they are within the public domain and the original author is always thanked.**_

Chapter One: Quickened Pace

There was a flurry of emotions flooding through the mind of a young man roaming a large trailing locomotive that sped through unknown locations towards a castle surrounded by both mystery and power. This young man deftly avoided the paces of fellow students who were also aboard the Hogwarts Express. Suspicion and no small amount of anxiety pumped through the veins of a pale young man who still wore a tattered and bleached shirt with worn jeans. His messy hair a nearly pure black, and narrowed green eyes the brightest you could imagine.

His name was Harry Potter, and he went by many titles. He was still sometimes called the Boy-Who-Lived for participating in the demise of the current resurfacing Dark Lord Voldemort whilst he lay in a crib as an infant. He was also called the "Golden Boy" for his seemingly virtuous attitudes and nearly heroic archetypal actions that have taken place during the past few years at the castle called Hogwarts. He had stopped the resurrection of a corporeal Voldemort during his first year there at the age of 11. He had both slain a gargantuan serpent called a Basilisk and saved a young girl from being possessed by an ancient memory that resided within a cursed diary at the age of 12. At 13, he had had a hand in stopping the execution of his Godfather whom met an unfortunate end only half a year ago. At fourteen he had taken part in a deadly competition against his will, and whilst kidnapped witnessed the physical resurrection of Voldemort himself.

The last year was one that Harry did not even want to speak about, even to himself. Grief still haunted him daily and it only served to convince him that his role as a hero was one that was undeserved and not worth the lives of his loved ones. However he still could not quell the increasing sense of dread from seeing another young man whom he had had multiple encounters with over the years. He had an admittedly unhealthy obsession with Draco Malfoy, a blond haired, grey gazed person who had seemingly served as the very antithesis of Harry's entire personality. He served as a sort of arch-rival or nemesis that as the years passed by Harry realized was more due to petty boyhood childishness rather than any sort of real violent tendency either had towards one another.

That did not stop Harry from being suspicious of Draco, as his father had been put in what could only be termed as a jail in their respective society of wizards. It was run by creatures that caused nightmares and served as a reason to never want to be within several miles of the island called Azkaban. With his father gone, for reasons related to crimes during a mission at the hands of Voldemort himself it only served to make Harry even more wary of the actions of his classmate.

That is what caused young Harry Potter to be chasing after Draco in the train underneath his invisibility cloak, a family heirloom he had been given by the headmaster as a way to remember the father Harry had never known. Invisibility did not mean ethereal nature by any means however which happened to cause quite a problem for the young wizard as he attempted to dodge the movements of his other classmates who were also in the train with them. It was a challenge, but one that Harry could handle well and after a few minutes he found himself with the room that Draco had chosen with a few of his friends. Blaise, a dark skinned boy their age who had sharp features and even sharper wit who while never intentionally hostile towards other students he had served as a mysterious wild-card within the student body when it came to views on the oncoming storm that would be the next British Civil war if not watched carefully. Harry also observed Pansy Parkinson, who had grown far past her 'ugly duckling' stage in which she had sometimes been called a 'pug nosed' girl to a young woman who had every ounce of an aristocratic beauty you could attribute. Her high cheek bones, sleek face and piercing eyes with shining long dark hair and pale skin made a stark contrast with the black robes that all but Harry wore at that moment. It was a close call to sneak in before the door was closed and find a risky spot to lay low and essentially spy on his peers.

"Draco, you don't look well." Pansy said with no small hint of concern, her eyes softening slightly and patting the spot next to her and across from Blaise at a small table.

"I am not sleeping, not well at the very least. The Dark Lord is quite possibly the worst kind of micro-managing ruler I could have imagined." The nearly white haired youth sighed warily while sitting down, his entire frame relaxing and nearly molding against the seat. Harry felt his heart lurch, he had suspected that Draco was now underneath Voldemort but he had really hoped that it had just been some over exaggerated childhood hatred on his part.

"Are the meetings as…" Pansy began but she couldn't speak any further for some reason. Draco looked perturbed to have to speak about it but continued her sentence seamlessly.

"Cruel and senseless as we thought they would be? Yes. It is disgusting. It takes all of the skill I have in the mind arts that my mother had taught me this past year to keep from losing all the food in my stomach. Fortunately I am still new enough that they did not mind that I did not participate but if we do not find out more about this mark then I will have a deadly dilemma on my hands."

Draco spoke quietly, as if he were haunted. There was no weakness though, only the kind of exhaustion that one could see in the most torn of individuals. His eyes that had held a determined steely glimmer within them now had an empty attribute and even Blaise looked as though he were struggling to stay seated during the conversation.

"My research on the mark has not come up completely empty, but the Dark Lord showed a good deal of innovation with it as well. I will let you know when I find anything else." He said, glancing shortly towards the arm that Harry assumed must have the Dark Lord's mark on it now. It served not only as a sign of their allegiance but also as a sort of leash for the followers.

Before they could continue to confuse the young Potter heir any further Blaise glanced in Harry's direction and his eyes narrowed. Harry saw this and nearly panicked as his hair stood up on end but knew he could not move any further.

"We have a visitor Draco." He said smoothly, with a frown marring his face. His darkened eyes darted again towards Harry and Pansy turned around and frowned as well.

Draco looked livid and worried at the same time, turning and his hand outreaching towards Harry. There was nothing he could do as the cloak was ripped from him and Pansy nearly tore her wand from her robes and snarled the binding curse. They loomed over him, Draco kneeling down and staring into his eyes. "Potter. This is a conversation that you really are not allowed to hear. We have had our differences, but I do not have time for this kind of pettiness right now. "

Pansy still had her wand pointed towards the now stiff and trapped body of their raven-haired classmate. "I should obliviate him. The danger of him knowing any of this, and it getting back to the Dark Lord…"

"No. You aren't skilled enough to not leave traces and possibly leave permanent damage and while Potter is certainly a nuisance I do not wish him to be further mentally crippled than he has thus far shown himself to be…"

"Then what do you suggest Draco? He can't just leave here knowing all of this. We can't trust him."

Draco sighed, but shook his head. "No one will believe him even if he opened the flap he calls a mouth. We have done far too good a job of making sure our image would make that impossible."

Draco then took out his wand and muttered an incantation, causing Harry to suddenly be able to move again and with little dignity and a large amount of embarrassment he stood up eye to eye with someone he had always felt a certain amount of hatred for.

Draco put his hand up however. "Do not bother Potter. We both know you are confused, and I can understand why, that was the purpose. You cannot let anyone know that you heard this conversation. In fact it will probably change nothing for you. If anyone else knows, I run the risk of the Dark Lord knowing that I am less than inclined to bow down to him voluntarily and that means nothing good for me."

Harry shook his head. "What is that supposed to matter to me? Why should I care?" he said, mustering up some of the dignity and pride he had lost by being found so quickly.

"Because whether you like it or not our sides are not separated by a line in the sand. Had things been different all of those years back, had you not been brainwashed by that half-giant of a mentor you grew so fond of you might have taken my offer of friendship. We are not as different as you think Potter, and the quicker you accept that the easier both of our lives can carry on."

The whistle blew signaling that it was nearing the time at which the train would reach the station near Hogsmeade and Draco motioned towards his two friends. "We should get going. Get dressed Potter, those rags you are wearing from those muggles you call family aren't allowed."

And with that Harry Potter was left far more confused and torn than he had felt possible for the start of the year. The implications of the conversation were not at all lost on him either, and it changed everything. For the first time he had one thought that seemed altogether foreign to him that echoed in his mind. "I have to know more about Draco Malfoy."

_**Thank you for reading, feel free to review. As a first chapter this is simply enough plot to make the point that from this point on we are speaking of an AU story. I apologize for there not being much interesting content but I urge you to continue reading.**_


	2. Rekindling a Fire

_**Well I know that this is extremely soon for a chapter update however I had been working on this and knew the direction I thought it should go for sometime so writing it was rather fluid. I hope that you all like this next installment, and I would like to say that yes it will be a regular thing to switch perspectives. Many people are involved in our lives, and I would like to highlight how every person's thoughts and interactions effect the world they are living in. Also it mixes things up for my writing so sue me if you have to, I promise I have nothing worth giving.**_

_**Chapter 2: Rekindling a Fire**_

Hermione Granger was a thoughtful young woman who considered herself to revere both intelligent thought and logical reasoning to be held against the world like a candle towards a dark tunnel. She had used this perspective on the world to live her entire life like a mystery novel where every new thing she learned unraveled more of the planet she lived on. From an early age she had started reading and it had been her solace from two parents who rarely had time for her personally whenever a nanny was not around to perpetuate the image of a good household.

When she learned that she was a witch it was both relieving and horrifying. She had finally learned why she sometimes could do things that went against all normal reasoning when emotionally upset but also found that even had she spent her entire life learning about the world that something so huge as magic existing could _still_ be out there and he never the wiser. From that day she had known she was on a mission to learn as much as she could. She had not expected to be liked any better at Hogwarts than she ever had in primary school and to a large extent she was quite right. If not for Harry and to some extent Ron she would barely be able to say she had friends. Her dorm mates were simply not very much like her, perhaps mostly because she was so stereotypically a Ravenclaw. Her robes having a red and gold lining on them instead was yet another mystery in her life that had evaded her until such moments as when she used a device that literally allowed her to travel in time in order to stop the blatantly premature execution of a man she learned to be her best friend's Godfather.

It was acts of bravery like those days and the event that occurred within the Department of Mysteries that caused her to no longer doubt her placement within the House of Lions. The scar that she now wore on her abdomen was essentially a war scar and while it was not attractive in her eyes it was something she held immense pride in. She did not consider herself very attractive anyway so the scar hardly mattered. With her curled long brown hair that thankfully now did not have such a wild attribute to it and brown eyes with paled skin and perhaps a few freckles on her cheeks she felt intimately average in every way. She had curves, perhaps, but there were not nearly as obvious nor as eye catching as many of those she had seen in Hogwarts and thus it was no surprise that she was not committed to anyone at this point in time.

She was prepared already for the train to come to the station at Hogsmeade and for her next year to start. She had been ready for the classwork for some time out of pure boredom and now sat dressed in her robes awaiting the time for her and the two people closest to her to enter the castle once again. The weather was brisk, although nice and the charms on her robes more than adequately made up for the slight chill in the air. It was always nice to take in the first breath of fresh air when leaving the train because it was like coming home. Harry came up behind her with his robes shabbily put on while his hair looked as though he had been rubbing it up against a pillow for hours as it usual did. She smiled and so did he, but his smile seemed a little strained and he had his normal thoughtful look that distracted her from the oncoming river of students also exiting the train. They found a carriage soon with Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny and Hermione finally broached the subject.

"Did something happen Harry? You look a little stressed." It was hard to really talk about anything in letter with Harry over the summer as he had been incredibly quiet and then the row that they had when he found out they were not allowed to really send him anything important had hurt their relationships slightly but hopefully now that the looming Order of the Phoenix no longer hovered over them like hawks they could return to their normal friendliness.

He looked up at her, and shook his head distractedly effectively dodging the question and asked Ron what he had been doing while he had 'gone for a walk'. It was an awful excuse for denying her the ability to talk to him and it hurt slightly but she continued by talking to the other three in the carriage about classes and what they expected from the year. With Voldemort now publically out in the open about his current attempt at rebelling against the acting government of the Ministry of Magic it now felt like there was this tense cloud that smothered them all.

Neville got involved by talking to them about the multiple students who would no longer be at Hogwarts because of the possible threat of incursion by Death Eaters, Voldemort's followers. Luna idly spoke about some of the things her father wrote in his self-published magazine but as with most of the subjects held within it what she said had completely defied all reason. She was a smart girl, and Hermione would never understand her fiercely held odd beliefs.

It was interesting to see the growth of these people that she called friends. Neville no longer looked as fragile and spooked as he had the past few years. His short dark hair now clouding his eyes in length and his eyes looked more determined than she had been used to. He had lost much of the baby fat and seemed to be growing nearly as tall as Ron had been. Luna was growing taller too, though still the shortest of them all with her long hip length silvery blonde hair and luminescent blue eyes that seemed to big for her head. Hermione felt a small jolt of jealousy run through her when she noticed that Luna was turning into quite the pretty young girl and like Ginny would be gathering attention sooner rather than later.

Ginny was much the same, with her pale freckled skin and long red hair. Her green eyes were alight with amusement laughing at something Harry was saying and Hermione wondered if this would finally be the year that the young girl went after the boy she had been crushing on since their early childhood. It was never a mystery how the red haired youth had felt but she had grown more into her own personality as time went by making her less of a hanging sibling to the group and more of a dedicated friend that added to their strength.

Ron was possibly the one that was going through the least amount of change as most of his had occurred in the years prior. He looked as though he was more mature with age but his jokes and obsession still with his favorite Quidditch team begged to differ. He was a sweet boy, and Hermione had a soft spot for him regardless of all the abuse he would sometimes put her through. He was a part of their little golden triad and she liked it that way.

Hogwarts was completely in view now, as the carriages meandered along at a sedate pace, while the sun set rapidly across the horizon lighting the castle up as small magical orbs were cast lighting the stone walls up. Every year it was still a beautiful sight, as the size of the castle itself could sometimes be a wonder to behold. It was as large as some cities she had been to in the normal world and sported some of the oddest architectural mysteries that she could have imagined. Surrounded by glades and grassy knolls, with a lake adjacent that housed both Merpeople and a giant squid. On the other side lay a large Quidditch Stadium that housed any and all spectators and was usually a place of great joy even for such a book-centered person like herself. Behind the castle lay the Forbidden Forest, not arbitrarily named. Within the dark forest lived giant spiders, a half giant, centaurs, unicorns, and any other manner of magical beast that could be both magnificent and deadly depending on the second.

As they got ever closer it was impressively obvious that this millennial structure was massive and extraordinary. It was her home of sorts. They left the carriages an made for the main gates while Harry glanced quickly behind them at a group of people she recognized as Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. She was confused as to why he would be looking back at them, but his current obsession with Draco being a Death Eater took some of the guesswork away. He could be very stubborn, and would against caution and logic. He was kind hearted and courageous though and every bit deserving of the house he was sorted in.

She sidled up closer to him while they walked within the hall towards the Great Hall to be seated and whispered towards him "What was so fascinating back there?" and he looked at her a little nervously as though he had been caught doing something awful and whispered back that he would tell her later. She felt like he was deflecting her again but let it go. He would tell her, she hoped.

The welcoming feast was both joyous and depressing as the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore chose that time to attempt to reassure the students that they were in no danger from the current Death Eater rebellion. She herself felt safe, but moreso because of her own experience in dueling rather than any words the Headmaster offered. However it did assuage much of the tension in the room as the sorting ceremony took place and the little first year students were welcomed to their respective houses. Bravery, Intelligence, Loyalty and Ambition. Those were the four tenants to each respective house and while sometimes it felt like they were too simplistic to base anyone housing arrangements on it worked remarkably well.

It was getting late, and most had classes or early schedules in the morning so the mass of students began making the walk towards their common rooms. The Gryffindor common room was warm and homey which is something she had always been thankful for. It gave her a place to study and still feel like she was with the rest of the students in her house without having to seclude herself in the school library all the time. Couches and chairs with red and gold lining were strewn across the floor and small desks inhabited many of the corners and nooks so that studying could be done. A large hearth fire nearly engulfed one of their walls and over it was another portrait that looked at them all with pride and began speaking to the new students. She was not very tired and continued to talk to some of the other students in her house about the summer and the starting semester and soon it was a normal scene within the common room.

Hermione, Harry, Ron and many of their friends all lay across the furniture lazily and spoke together in a closely knit group held together by more than just friendship after the events at the Department of Mysteries. Harry and Ron attempted to play another round of chess which normally would lead to Harry losing and Ron smugly asking others to play. She began talking with Luna and Ginny about the new students and the way that people were more fearful than ever. A few hours passed by and soon it was just her, Harry, and Ron and even the redheaded third of the trio yawned and bid his two best friends goodnight.

Hermione then looked pointedly at Harry who sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "You are either patient or stubborn." He said to her succinctly.  
>"I prefer to consider myself both." She said with a bright smile. It was good to spend time with him alone after a long day; while she would never say so to Ron it was always Harry and her that were the closest of the three. They had been through more together, and held a similar background.<p>

"Well I was right about Draco being a Death Eater now."

While the news in itself was a little shocking, it confused her that he was not calling the boy he normally hated so much Malfoy, nor did his voice convey the normal amount of hostility or venom it used to have when speaking about him.

"I feel like there is a but in that sentence." She said, blinking twice and cocking her head to the side.

"Well, that's the weird part. In the same five minutes he admitted to being marked to his friends, they also were speaking about how they are trying to figure out how to block it… and they found me."

Hermione put her hands against her mouth, she was surprised he wasn't hurt! She wasn't proud of him spying on them in the first place but she knew his tenacity on the subject was something that could barely ever be questioned reasonably without a row. "And?!" She whispered fiercely, getting closer and trying to make sure that even if anyone wandered back down to the common room from the dorms upstairs that they wouldn't hear them well.

"I wasn't hurt. Though I was threated with obliviation. Draco…told me that I should keep what I heard to myself, or else it might mean horrible things for him. And I can see that too… he is already marked, he can't exactly run. This is why you can't tell anyone. I am telling you because you would either figure it out yourself or pester me about it publically and draw attention to me. I trust you."

The light of the fireplace flickered across Harry's green eyes and showed her just how much he meant what he said. The severity of the situation was nerve racking and while she had hoped for a normal year this time around it seemed that asking that much of Hogwarts was a naïve prospect. This complicated things, if Draco didn't voluntarily follow Voldemort then that meant any number of the Death Eaters could be doing so out of fear. You couldn't paint them all as disgusting pigs and that kind of realization sent a tremor through her very core.

"I understand. No one will hear it from me. But does this mean anything? Does it make any difference?" She asked, wanting to know if Harry planned on doing anything about the situation.

"I don't know. How do you approach and help someone that probably doesn't want the help? If he really does not want to follow Voldemort then while I hate to say it; the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I may hate him for his personality but I would hate myself more if I knew he was trying to get out and didn't help. Too many people have been forced to suffer at the hands of this immortal bastard and I don't want that number to keep climbing."

Hermione sat back, curling into a side of the coach they sat across from each other on. It was a major dilemma, and one that they couldn't just make rash decisions about. "We will have to leave it alone. For now." She said quietly, looking deeply into his eyes to see if he would be honest with her about how he felt about doing nothing. It wasn't his nature, but it was the best option for right now.

"Okay, I guess you are right. Doing anything might put him in more risk." He said, and Hermione wondered why he was concerned about Malfoy after all this time. But it did further prove one thing about him that she had always admired, and that was if someone was in trouble it never mattered who it was or what they had done but he would want to help. It was generous, but also could become foolhardy and she had a feeling that she would have to watch him carefully to make sure that he did not overstep those bounds.

"We should go to sleep Harry, and get up early for breakfast. Try and get Ron up before nine if you can?" She said lightly, diffusing the tension and mood.

"Of course. But no promises can be made." He smirked, and they got up and gave each other a brief hug. It had become almost normal for that to happen every now and then between the two of them, as Hermione had hugged him that first time before he faced Voldemort in first year and subsequently denied any form of physical contact for a few years after. In their fourth year when they reconciled after her short burst of insanity in abandoning him she had gone for a second hug, and he had finally admitted that it was such a rare thing for him that it felt foreign. From that time on she had made sure that physical contact and affection was something normal to him, he deserved and even needed that. And more than a few times she remembered that so did she…


	3. New Perspectives

_**Welcome back everyone. While there aren't yet that many reviews I am still getting positive feedback for the story so I will keep up the pace and try to keep writing every day. This is a soothing thing for me and I hope that I can bring you all a little escapism from this as well. **_

_**I must admit I am an action writer mostly so these chapters have been a struggle, being perhaps primarily dialogue and POV driven. That is to say that for those of you hoping for action that I will be finding ways to add it in where I can.**_

_**Chapter 3: New Perspectives**_

* * *

><p>Torchlight and flames from the fireplace licked the stone walls of the Slytherin common room. The pale grey stonework bore scorch marks speaking of prior spell damage, and portraits haphazardly covering some of the more obvious signs of ruin or aggression. Ornate furniture of the finest quality could be found in nearly any remaining free space of the common room, dark green and silver accents for those who perhaps did not know where they were. A banner hung from one of the walls showing a moving serpent that constantly chased a small lion in a figure eight made by one of the more genius seventh years before graduating proudly emphasized by pointing most furniture in its direction. Underneath that banner was the fireplace, large and inviting in a way that the rest of the room simply could not be.<p>

It was a dark, sometimes depressing place to be and most students agreed on this but the point of it was not to be a home but rather a place to make small talk and do business. This was not their home, and for most it did not matter what kind of comfort they felt in the common room because comfort bred informality which was a tenant that Severus Snape snidely disregarded as useless.

There were a few students within the confines of this room, that while not particularly massive in its own sense It seemed every year to accommodate perfectly the number of students that resided inside. In a very real sense the House of Serpents lacked a large population, with pure-bloods still possessing the majority and most ancient and noble houses still recovering from the first war with the former and now current Dark Lord it hindered the numbers that the house could hold. One of these students sat quietly in front of the fireplace staring intently without so much as a breath to be heard. His hair shimmered nearly golden from the light of the fireplace, and his grey eyes flickered ominously without real heat. Draco Malfoy looked down at his hands, the pale visage of his skin tone making him mentally sigh in discontent knowing that having to be holed up in some dark recess of wizardkind at all times had made him seem even more ghostly than normal. In those pale hands he held a letter that he had found in his trunk, certainly from his mother and disturbing in its contents.

"_Draco, I know that normally we would be celebrating yet another year of your stay at Hogwarts as a milestone for your growth but we both know that you have been forced into manhood far sooner than either of us would have preferred. I have spoken with the Goblins and they have assured me that even if the plan that the Dark Lord is considering for releasing Lucius that our accounts will still be frozen for all but my own use. I have spoken with them to consider faking a criminal investigation and claiming they have to watch our account usage in order to have a feasible excuse to give the Dark Lord to keep him from turning our fortune into his own. I urge you to stay safe, and to be diligent with whom you trust. I know that it has been hard to make such a shift in attitudes, but I needed you to know the truth behind your father's actions and how I could not afford for you to turn into a deplorable copy of him. I thank you, for you have shown great ambition and determination that reminds me of your great grandfather Orion and you would do well to remember that our heritage is that of power, not of dark intentions."_

Draco smiled pleasantly as his eyes roamed the parchment and ink, taking pride in the compliment that he knew his mother meant dearly. It had been a hard change the past year, as she had taken time to quietly show him the truth behind his father's own delusions and cruelty. Draco had known that his father had sharp edges but he had always assumed that he used his tenacity to improve the lives of his family, as family was the center of life for a pure-blood. The rude awakening that he had been given had made him moody and angry most of the time but as the months passed by it tempered his torment like water poured on hot metal.

"_Remember what we spoke about, and burn this letter upon reading it. I was not able to tell you often as your father had a hatred for affection like no man I've ever known but I assure you my Draco that I love you dearly. –Narcissa."_

Draco tossed the letter swiftly into the nearby flames and watched it burn in its entirety. No one would question his actions, privacy was a large part of any person's life within this distrusting house and nearly everyone burnt letter regularly. Information was often power over an individual and not a single one of these snakes wanted to have someone else gain power over them.

The first day had gone by without urgency or anything interesting. The first classes were dull and it was hard to stay focused when his father had forced him to be tutored in all of his subjects to 'show the image of superiority at all times'. Potter continued glancing towards him at several intervals during the day, although his subtly was impressive. The Granger girl had done so as well with much less subtly which probably meant that she knew about the discussion that took place on the train. It did not matter, the Granger girl was much too cautious to let it slip and Draco was well aware of the closeness between the two and as long as Weasley did not stare intently things would be fine. This entire ordeal had been making Draco think though, because while independence and cool superiority had thus far been a tool to keep other back taught to him by his father he was becoming increasingly aware of the lack of allies he had. Pansy, Blaise, and Greengrass were perhaps the only people he could legitimately trust not to slit his throat in the dark recesses of night but that could hardly be called trustworthy.

He hated to say it, even to himself but it was true. He could use the help, whether it was with research, or perhaps later down the line a wand by his side. He had heard in detail from the Dark Lord about the skirmish that took place in the Department of Mysteries and even if you include the obvious bias that the immortal tyrant had towards his own performance you could tell that somehow Potter had trained his group to be competent in dueling. That was a bigger problem for the Dark Lord's cause than any one person could grasp. Draco's father had been using his power within the Ministry to slowly move funds away from the Auror program within the Ministry to lower both their ability to fight back and their general competency or resourcefulness. If Potter somehow could train a younger generation to fight, then by the time the Dark Lord is able to provide a public and outright stand against the government there could feasibly be a small resistance.

Draco knew that the chances were slim; perhaps that anyone would make it out of this alive at all. But the Dark Lord had ruined countless lives and had convinced men who were supposed to be of the most noble and honorable blood to do unspeakable things in the name of magical cleansing and that could not go unpunished. The Dark Lord had taken away Draco's childhood, his family, and wanted his wealth.

He looked up from the couch and his eyes narrowed watching several seventh years come down the stairs talking with low voices and hushed tones. He had wanted to forget, but it was impossible to let it go…one of the young Death Eaters had been given the duty to kill Albus Dumbledore this year, and Draco did not know who.

* * *

><p>Harry walked briskly through the castle corridors, thinking to himself and making sure to keep his feet underneath the cloak. His head was swimming with frenzied confusion after the first day still. His obsessive nature keeping him from letting the issues go even if he had told Hermione that he would do nothing. He had wondered what he could do, if anything to be productive. It became obvious after he had bid his friends goodnight and pretended to go to his dorm.<p>

_His mind flickered back to that horrible night. He stood there, watching within the Department of Mysteries where ancient tomes and intricate objects stood on display against every wall and in the center lay an indention in the stone. Stairs in a circular fashion laid out like a theatre that surrounded an ominous and nightmarish structure of obsidian and glowing runes. The Veil, rumored to be a portal to the afterlife, or some other ghostly dimension. Nearly three meters tall and two meters wide It looked like a piece of Stonehenge. However this structure looked far less like an object of sun worship and much more…dark in nature. There was a wisp-like substance that permeated the middle, shuddering and groaning back and forth with the illusion of a curtain that was just barely non-corporeal like a mist or fog. Sirius Black, his godfather, stood triumphantly towards the bottom pointing his wand wildly at his cousin Bellatrix LeStrange. Two family members dueling barbarically and ruthlessly separated by two sides of the war over a decade prior and now seemingly playing like children with deadly spells. _

_Sirius Black was a gaunt shadow of pure-blood nobility. With dark hair anywhere that it could grow, a smarmy smile that held so much nefarious glee that it was infectious and playfulness well behind his age. Sirius had been playing, but Bellatrix could no longer tell the difference between that and the real thing so when she shot the curse that threw Sirius into the Veil, Harry felt his entire soul shatter. He had watched powerlessly as the last vestige of his family fell into the structure's grasp and faded into an ethereal plane not to be seen on the other side. The screams and tears were hard to remember and even further suppressed were the memories of unadulterated rage that he had felt towards Bellatrix. He had chased after her, a ghostly and pale woman who bore signs of fading beauty from her time in Azkaban while still holding a certain gothic seductiveness that would have probably attracted a man had she not been so mad. _

_She had been running, casting spells back at him while he chased after her down the darkened corridors lit by blue torches and magical orbs. He had seen red, nothing bed red and it caused nearly every spell to miss horribly and caused that hyena-like laugh that further drive him into furious insanity. He had caught her when she tripped, such a powerful witch confounded by the act of running so quickly in heels that it could have been funny had it not been so deadly serious. It was his chance, his opportunity. He could feel his blood rushing and pulsing painfully within his skull and his breathing came out harshly ragged. He held up his wand and screamed the first thing that came to mind, a spell that he had never cast before and would have denied any want to ever cast just a few hours ago. _

"_Crucio!" his voice bellowed, the sickly pale bolt that looked nearly identical to lightning leave his wand and snap towards the former Black Sister. She screamed out in agony, and the pure pleasure that Harry had felt during that small moment would haunt him for weeks. However the moment lasted a mere few seconds before her screams turned into moans and she laughed in this indescribably mad fashion that broke Harry's concentration._

"_You need to __mean__ it, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain ... to enjoy it ... righteous anger won't hurt me for long ..." she said, cackling menacingly and getting to her feet while Harry stood in shock. Her violet eyes gleamed with insanity and her smile nearly split her face in half as she pointed her wand at him saying "Should I teach you a lesson then? Show you how to really cast a powerful spell?" And before Harry even had a moment to think, pain that seared his very flesh and down to his bones riveted through his entire being sending him to the ground. He could not remember screaming, or curling into the fetal position but his entire memory was a black mass of pain and despair until someone had broken Bellatrix's concentration on the spell._

That had been a horrible night, for more reasons than he could possibly count. And he hated having to revisit those memories. During the time that his mind had decided to take a totally unwanted detour however he was met with the archway leading to the Hogwarts Library. A massive repository of arcane knowledge that was apparently heralded all over Britain as being the source of most academic understanding the region, serving as a sort of Library of Alexandria for British Wizards. Harry sadly had not spent very much of his time in this impressive and vast field of magic because he had woefully thought that reading and learning about magic from these tomes would be like learning maths in primary school.

He had been in for a rude awakening when he had come here seeking guidance on how to more efficiently teach the students joining the D.A. which was sometimes either called Dumbledore's Army or the Defense Association depending on who you spoke to. He had been made the leader of that group somehow and ended up being the main instructor of various defensive spells and techniques requiring him to search out many books on tactical maneuvering for dueling. He had learned that the books themselves were physical like that of normal textbooks but some of the more intriguing texts were magical in nature spurring mental imagery that ran along the same context as the script you read. He had read several dueling books that strangely gave his mind shadowy and smoke-like images not unlike a movie reel portraying famous duels and spellbooks similarly taught both the wand movements and general look of the spells through minor mind magic.

It had made learning an impossibly interesting thing to spend his time doing and now he understood why Hermione spent most of her time here, it wasn't necessarily that she loved books so much even if that might be true but she had found something completely different from muggle book reading that also gave understanding. He could see the appeal.

It was for that reason that he had begun to visit the Library more often and seek out more subjects on his own rather than let the Hogwarts curriculum suffice. It had helped him during his fourth year and perhaps it would help him on his mission to somehow survive another encounter with Voldemort. He passed slowly by the towering shelves, the pedestals that were associated with them that allowed you to easily search the titles and some of the unlit torches that would sometimes light up for visitors. He was well aware by now that if he did not get too close that they would not come to life, and no one would know he was there past curfew.

However after a few minutes of searching for a good place to start he saw something unexpected. One of the pedestals and torches were lit and a student was leafing through one of the encyclopedic tomes that held the information for the book cases surrounding it. It was Draco, and he looked exhausted. He was whispering to himself and a small lumos lighting spell was lit on the tip of his wand just bright enough to help him read. Harry struggled for a second, he could creepily watch a fellow student study, or he could leave, or he could make himself known. Draco would gain nothing by letting anyone know, and with Draco here Harry could afford to be visible as if Filch came by he could let the blame fall on Draco.

He made a snap decision and uncloaked himself, walking towards the blond male that he was finding too contradictory to be normal. Draco looked up and while he was exhausted, his eyes still widened and he put up his wand, a spell probably on his lips.

In a spark of confidence that took Harry off guard from himself he waved his hand at the other boy and said "Don't bother Malfoy, neither of us is in the mood for that." And with those words the blond put his wand down carefully and glanced at him. His grey eyes were almost empty, and he seemed to be slouching in a way that was really disconcerting for someone who knew how much the boy prided himself in posture and image.

"What are you doing here Potter?" there was no venom in his voice, but the weariness spoke of a certain extent of annoyance at being disturbed.

"I could not sleep, and usually choose am not able to. I come here some nights. A better question is what are you doing here?"

Draco sighed, and shook his head. "I am working on something that requires my attention immediately."

Harry had no idea why he was badgering Malfoy, nor why he felt this need to help. Hermione had once said he had a hero complex and now that he stood there trying to assist someone who for years he had nothing but spite towards it was evident that something no less than pure insanity was holding him there. Why would he help? Malfoy was acting different this time around, but not enough to warrant civility… was it because Malfoy mentioning that line in the sand hit him harder than he thought? Or the mention of friendship lost in first year? Sure he had been a prick, but looking back so had most other boys including himself at that age been. Thinking about some of the comments Ron had made about Hermione were certainly cringe-worthy. Malfoy was simply a rich boy, and with that came a good deal of superiority complex, which unfortunately for an easy to grasp black and white perspective meant that Malfoy could possibly not be as inherently evil as Harry had assumed. Certainly he could be much like Sirius had been to the Marauders, the pure-blood fancy pants who came from an evil back ground. Malfoy didn't strike Harry as quite the fun loving type as Sirius had but who knew.

"I see, well I will be nearby doing my own research. You'll be able to find me if you need to." Harry said cryptically before walking away and soon turning invisible. Malfoy's eyes had narrowed but Harry just smirked to himself thinking that it was probably about time Malfoy realized he had that kind of power anyway.

The night went by without any other words between the two, until Harry was ready to call it a night and put his book up. His footsteps were not completely silent so when he saw Draco come to a halt nearby and speak to him it wasn't terribly surprising.

"Listen Potter, I have no idea why you are now civil and a little less unbearable but if you are truly interested look for some information on this subject and tell me what you find. I will have to know about it soon but I have more pressing things to seek. It would be…helpful if you looked it up for me." He looked rather pained to be saying those words in that sequence towards Harry and the entire scenario had the raven haired youth smirking smugly.

Malfoy held out a note and it disappeared within the cloak, the grey eyed boy left quickly and Harry opened it to see in terribly girly handwriting the words:

_**Core Tethering: Latching onto Someone else**_

Cryptic and vague were words that Harry would have described this awful clue as but he sighed and walked back to his dorm, considering that for the first time in six years he had just had a somewhat neutral exchange with the Malfoy Heir. He wasn't sure if hell had just frozen over but he was sure one of their relatives must be rolling in their graves right now.

* * *

><p>(<em><strong>More Descriptions and a better look into our two main character's perspective. A little mystery and some forced action later and we have a full-fledged chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to tell me anything you dislike.)<strong>_


End file.
